Category Archives: Nature

Life without colours- Ode to the nature

Came here after a long time,
Finally got free from mine self built cage of sustainability,
How could I let me be fooled and get trapped?
Trapped around those ghastly towers of concrete!

Was I in too much doubt about my own creator?
That I questioned my own old ways of survival.
And leaving behind the calm and serene abode,
I surrendered myself to be imprisoned in the dungeon

Anyways I have come back now,
To my very own origin.
The place from where I commenced,
My voyage that would lead me to my own doom.

I am sure she would take me back with a smile
Heart of a mother is always ready to forgive
So chaste and pure
Like a divine and heavenly soul

But what do I see here!
What happened to my Mother Nature?
What did you do to her my siblings?
Why is she so gloomy and withered?

Why is that grass so pale which used to be so green?
This place looks like a desert as if greenery has never been.
And what happened to the sky which used to be so blue?
Now looking at me face down as if he’s ashamed of losing his hue.

Where’s that gusty breeze?
The warm breath of my Mother,
Where’s that ravishing rivulet in the woods?
Which used to flow through her bosom to feed me.

What have you done to her fledglings,
The wonderful oaks, pines and spruce.
Why like a unruly tyrant my sibs,
You cut off their head for some wright’s use.

Where are those red roses that used to shine so bright,
Like a princess drying her locks in the deck at sunlight.
What happened to the daisies and the tulips too,
Who once filled our gardens and now left so few!

Where are all the moths and the mighty monarch,
Those unanimous kings of wings…in air who used to march.
And where are all those sparrows and the miry magpies,
In our veranda all day who used to roam and lie.

No doubt my brothers you can always boast,
That how you turned a divine hamlet into a town of ghosts,
That for the path of development that we laid,
Slaughtering our own nest was the price that we paid.

What will you tell to the ones who are yet to take birth,
That places so bright in old pictures now seem to be in dearth.
What will you say when they’ll ask- What have you done?
Where’s the fiery ball of fire that you used to call as Sun?

Smog will be covering whole sky even at noon,
Though it won’t be dark, but you would still see a moon.
Would you be able to point their little finger so light,
At the moonlike sun which will appear to be white.

Colours are not just crayons used to show a child’s imagination,
They depict the life around us, things we see through our vision.
Meddling with nature’s ways has never gone great,
Life without colours, is like palm with no line of fate.

Let’s bring an end to this devastation we have done,
Bring back those mystique tints to our mother, and be a good son.
We have done enough for ourselves and now it’s time that we commence,
Take a true step forward to enrich lives of our descendants, not just pretend.


(So that was today’s assignment… Hope I did justice. The Commons)


A known stranger

edited with the help of- Priyanka Chandak

It was almost the time for harvest in Bhogpur village. Retired Subedar Purshottam was sitting with his Hukkah in the porch of his old house. With each puff of smoke from his pot, he was taking away a second off his life. He didn’t even care about his life anymore because he had no reason to. He had seen enough of it. Enough of his kids who didn’t want to take care of him anymore; who couldn’t even have a small corner in their big bungalows in the city for him. Enough of this brutal world where money is all people run after. He often used to sit and think about the time he was in army and what a gallant life he had there. The hero’s welcome he used to get when he used to come back home from the border. He gave 40 years of his seven decades life to that profession. He liked nothing more than his life in the army. But he always felt that whatever he did there was of no importance to the ‘bloody civilians’. The villagers or any other person just can never understand what sacrifices that a soldier makes for his country. Sure he became grumpy because of all this, because he always felt that he deserved more than what he received, at least a little respect and care from his own kin. But with time he had realized the ugly truth- the road to one’s end is meant to be walked alone. The only soul he cared for his entire life passed away last winter. But the more sad part was that no one from his family showed up for the cremation. Lakshmi was like an integral part of his life. Though he was no different in behavior to her, but she knew all his traits. She was the only one who could bring a little calm to the turmoil inside him. But with her gone, he lost his soul and was now just waiting on his old coir to leave this planet for good.

He had a little farm which he had to look after himself. There weren’t many folks around as almost everyone had shifted to the city, so he had to do almost everything by himself. After a long and rough season the paddy was finally up, smiling bright at the sun. In a week or two, the harvest was due. Sometimes Purshottam used to think that how weird this life was- first we sow and grow something till it becomes fully grown and then we cut it down just like that. He could see the similarity of this peculiar lifestyle with his own- growing into something useful and when he was no good for anyone, he was cut off from this world. Now he could see that why this planet is called as the Land of Mortals. With another puff he took a little sigh. Just then he heard a little rattling sound coming from his fields. He thought the rabbits were back again, so he threw a stone from the pile he had kept beside his chair. But to his surprise it didn’t stop the sound. So he got up to take a better look at the unwanted guest. All he could guess was that it was larger than a rabbit but smaller than an Elephant. It had some reddish hue. Purshottam could hardly see what it really was with his naked eyes. So he went inside to get his spectacles and along with that he brought a long bamboo stick as well. Cutting through the paddy carefully he charged towards the place from where that sound was coming. As he drew closer, he saw a little disturbance in the field. That little creature in the field got a little sense of the incoming human with a long pointed weapon attached to one of the limbs. It got the feeling that its trespassing scheme has been compromised, so it started taking careful steps towards the opposite side of Purshottam’s advances. It moved and moved at similar pace at which Purshottam was cruising in. Few minutes later when it saw Purshottam coming closer to itself, it started running and soon it was out in the open- a calf with reddish hue.

It was more like a fully grown up cow but smaller, yet big enough that it couldn’t be called as a calf. It was more like in its adolescent age. Purshottam was really furious to see that a part of his hard work was devoured by this little red beast. So he ran right towards it, in full rage, to bring an end to it’s life. But the calf wasn’t new to these chases, it kept its safe distance all the time. As soon as Purshottam took a leap, the calf increased it’s own pace. Whenever Purshottam took a little time for taking breath, the calf used to stop and eat the small grass-lings on the ground as if it were mocking at him. It made this chase look like a game. Purshottam after gaining some energy again started shooing the calf away from his fields as far as he could. He knew that in no way he could catch it in this lifetime. It was growing pretty dark outside and dusk was about to take a turn into night. Purshottam thinking that he had shooed the calf far enough, threw some stones at it to make it go little further. And when it was far away from his sight, he retreated back towards his old hut.

It was really hard for a person of his age to do something like that. He wasn’t young enough to do such chases. He was really tired of all the chase he had done that day. But none of the few ones left in the village were going to help him, so it was all his work to do. He reached back to his old house and sat on the old charpoy. He was really tired and didn’t have any strength to prepare a meal for himself. So he ate a few guavas that he had plucked from the tree in his backyard. Few of them were enough to fill his flaccid tummy. And few drops of water from the pitcher at the end finished the dinner part of his day. Turning off the switch of the bulb, he then lay down on the charpoy to call the night off. Nothing on Earth was so soothing than taking rest upon the ropes of that charpoy.

He could still recall the day when he had bought that charpoy in Dilli for 10Rs and how happy his wife and kids were to see him bring that home. He could still recall that day very distinctly. For few days kids just used to jump on it’s little strings and Lakshmi used to shout at that them not to make the strings loose. A tear dropped from his eyes while he thought about it. He would give up everything to see that moment again; but alas, this life doesn’t work that way! Soon those tears collectively formed a wall in front of his eyes. He cleared them of with his gamcha and closed the lids.

Next morning Purshottam woke up later than his normal routine. He had a really good sleep after a long long time. But waking up this late was against his defense time norms. He could see himself getting old. He could feel the change in himself. Nevertheless he got up and did what he used to do everyday. He took a bath, washed his dirty clothes, prepared few chapatis and sabzi which would last enough for the lunch. Everyday he used to make enough for  himself to last till lunch. Then he cleaned up his varandah and watered the plants. Everyday the Tulsi tree was the first one he used to serve; it was planted by Lakshmi when she first came to his house after their wedding. Though everyday she used to water it through the holy pitcher of their little temple while chanting mantras… but Purshottam wasn’t such a religious man. He was more of an atheist or rather agnostic, yet in Lakshmi’s presence he never questioned her faith and would politely accompany her in all her religious tasks. But with her being gone now, he would deliberately make efforts to annoy God in the hope that it might cut his life short. Yet, at times he would ponder, that maybe, letting him live was the greatest punishment for him. This fear often provoked him to water the Tulsi plant daily. And after all the other daily chores, Purshottam again filled his Hukkah with new burning coal and then he sat on his coir to gaurd the fields. And with a long sigh he took the first puff of the day.

He had hardly taken few patches of the tobacco when he heard a familiar rustle again from a corner of his paddy field. Looking closely he saw a reddish hue again- the calf was back. Clenching his wrists in rage he got up from his chair and grabbed the bamboo. He started the day’s campaign with large pebbles. The first one he threw hit the calf just at the center of its tummy. The calf didn’t see that coming and with little vibration of surprise in it’s red skin, it started running towards the woods. Purshottam felt little joy with his aimed shot hitting it’s target. He took another aim, throwing the pebble with as much power as he could. Though this time the calf had it’s laugh, the pebble passed between it’s hind legs. This time calf started running towards the upper steep path of the mountain valley. It was pretty young so it was not difficult for it to climb it. Whereas Purshottam on other hand was having a hard time in chasing the calf. It was becoming really hard for him to breath. He was taking frequent stops now. But enough was enough as Purshottam had promised to himself that he would bring an end to this chase today. He started taking smaller breaths. That way he gained some energy and he finally stood up. The calf was still there at top, peeking at him like as if playing hide and seek.


Purshottam started taking small small steps towards it. The calf seeing him advancing, started running again. Few moments later they both reached the top. It was plain there above though covered with Pine trees. Purshottam knew that he was very near to the Thano village. He thought that if he is able to make this calf go towards that village, maybe then it won’t come back again as there were greener fields to feed upon or maybe any villager will end up catching it. So Purshottam kept on trailing the calf as far as he could. After sometime he saw some white fences. He knew it was someone’s ranch or a farm. Purshottam threw few stones at it and made it run as far as he could. The calf passed two broad fields and after few minutes it was really hard to spot it. Purshottam was assured that finally it was the end of his chase. So he headed back to his house. It was a long way back; he took the shortest path he could. On returning back to his house, he drank whole pitcher of water first and then sat on his chair to take some rest. Rest of his long day passed in throwing stones at parrots and rabbits. He ate the chapaties with sabzi which he had prepared for lunch. With a day long chase he didn’t get time to eat them in afternoon. And drinking a full pitcher of water his another day ended. Like everyday he then lay down in his charpoy, remembering another old instance from his past and just like that he slept.

It was a new day and he wanted nothing new like the past two days to occur again. But he was pretty much sure that the calf wasn’t coming back again. Again like everyday he did what he used to do in his routine and finally sat down in his chair to keep a watch over his near to be harvested crop. It was a calm sunny day and not much of rodents or birds were there to make him move his muscle. Just like that a thought came to his mind that what might would have happened to that calf? What would it be doing right now? Was it caught by a villager or is it still feeding someone else’s field? And many other thoughts rolled in his curious mind. Almost whole day passed and he saw no sign of any rabbit or bird or a calf. He just sat there wondering what might would had happened to it. A sudden urge grew inside him to see that calf again. After a long long time he had been busy with something off his daily boring routine. He missed the red beast. For him the calf became like a little companion- a known acquaintance. Chasing it was something of a meaning to him now, it gave him a new reason to live. But alas, he drove it away! That little thought made him sad. He broke his only rope of hope.

He just stared at that little corner if it has come back. As dusk grew up on the day’s end, his watch also came close to an end. Feeling grim about his loss, Purshottam got up and headed back towards his hut to prepare something to eat. Inside his hut he made a dough out of the flour. He lit the chullah and put the tawa over the scintillating flames. He saw the tawa getting heated up. He took a piece of dough and made it like a little dumpling. Then he rolled it plane with a belan and then took it in between his hands to put it over the tawa. Just when he was about to do that, he heard an old familiar rustle coming from his paddy field through his window. A little smile grew in his face and with a breath of satisfaction he put the chapati over the tawa.

Pursuit of becoming green…!

The time has come that we bring an end
To this old, ancient and orthodox trend
Trend of using the fruit from trees
And uprooting the same when it is use free

We did it again while making new roads
We ripped them apart using axes and ploughs
And later again for the sake of woods
We slaughtered the forests and took every piece that we could

And rivers! Oh what can I say about them
Their tale likewise trees were eerier and full of mayhem
How merrily whose water once flowed in haste
Was choked, as if chained from shackle of waste

Like Ganges, whose sheerness and chastity we pretended to adore
And then backstabbed her by pouring our filth at her shores
Either you call it divine justice or something else
But mother nature took her laugh in the ‘land of gods’ itself

Several innocents lost their soul to that holocaust
And we mortals called it mere design of god
Some referred as ‘religious martyrs’ to the deceased souls
While some called them fortunate to die at heaven’s door

What kind of sacred life are we living in this modern time?
That wise have lost their wisdom, and priest speaks odious words instead of hymns!

What kind of ominous life we are leading ourselves into now,
That even we would laugh if we knew why and how,
That how instead of talking in person to a guy
We find it much better to chat with him through a toy!

Is that the way to maintain our lineage’s past esteem?
Though it sounds so simple but it’s not as easy as it seems
How can we call ourselves good sons of our forefathers and mums?
When we are demolishing their heritage by our so called inventions.

And I wonder what kind of pater we will henceforth become
By teaching the same ways to our own sons to come
There’s still time left to halt our methods of dreadfulness
And think about something which leads to sustainable progress

There are so many ways to bring back what is lost
And it is as simple as we could ever think or ever thought
Just add mere words like ‘green’ and ‘bio’ in front
Of exquisite words like our Chemistry and the fuel that we burnt

See this is the way we make our mother nature clean
And harness the resources while her true beauty redeems
And by making less use for technology and more use of words
We can make better companions and bring harmony among us.

The Unexpected Departure

Though every second my brain cell grows,
And every moment I get one minute old,
Should I be merry that my birthday has arose,
Or rather I should be in grief that my farewell is close.

This is the delusion which simply arose,
Because of our tendency to forget and ignore.
To forget the sorrowful end we will receive,
At the end of our life for ignoring and deceive.

Deceiving those friends and admirer of thine,
Who had love and affection for you every time.
Each and every moment who would feel the pain,
Of parting with you as their affection went in vain.

They are the one who would be so obsessed,
By you and your memories and your rejoicing jest.
They were the one who deserved at least,
A last meeting with you till you take your last breath.

That last glimpse of your eye’s spark which they couldn’t get.
Those last words they heard from you which they can’t forget.
Oh! Doesn’t they deserved to see the moment when you left.
Or either to gain your meagre importance they had to give a test.

If you could come back from your eternal afterlife,
And see the dreadful condition of the people including your wife.
You would find those people are in so miserable state,
That even their tearful eyes couldn’t change the fate.

Though this rule of nature is itself so utterly bleak,
That every time when someone departs, we all start to weep.
This wailing for short time is not so prolong,
As every person on this land knows that show keeps going on.

An Infant’s Lesson

He died at his eighties with a proper end,
And yesterday he was born again.
This time Sir Alex had a new face,
Along with a new name by his parent’s grace.

Less excited was he in his new name,
More curious was he to know what has changed.
Though for a year he couldn’t see much,
As his new mom never let him off her clutch.

But in meantime he had observed a lot,
Like his father never used an overcoat.
And instead of farms he used to work in a place so far,
That he often travelled in something known as car.

There were no carts, there were no bulls,
And neither these cars were needed to pull.
It used to travel at lightening pace,
By what modern humans called Petroleum’s grace.

Less excited was he to see that car move,
More curious was he to see a cloud of black soot.
Which was coming from back of the car,
And he felt as if dark clouds were preparing to show’r.

But alas, there were no shower nor any sign of rain,
Instead that black soot choked his lungs and brain.
Sir Alex thought maybe it’s a modern thing,
Perhaps inside its back there’s someone cooking.

When he grew bit older and started to move,
He saw so many things which he couldn’t prove.
He couldn’t just understand how possible it could be,
As he saw people moving in a box called TV.

And moreover he couldn’t believe in his eyes,
When he saw a giant thing passing by in the sky.
It wasn’t a bird or any natural thing,
It was quite big and without moving wings.

Less excited was he to know what was that thing,
More curious was he to know how it flew without real wings.
But as Sir Alex was doing some thinking,
A bird flew in for a piece of crumbling.

He forgot that giant and approached that bird,
In wish to exchange with her some words.
But as he knee walked towards that fowl,
It flew away and sat beside the bowl.

Sir Alex rumbled as if saying- “Come here you
I have done nothing to you !”
While bird chirped in a different tone,
As if exclaiming- “please don’t moan”.

“It’s the way we all have to behave
Or you humans will make us slave
If I don’t be away from you
What will my little fledglings do”

Sir Alex was stunned for a moment,
Because in his preceding life they didn’t even touch a rodent.
What has changed in a millennium or two,
Was not only for that bird but was inhumane for him too.

The bird also told the true state,
Of our mother Earth and her near fate.
It’s becoming a hell where no one would like to be,
And for the question who is culprit? Answer is we.

Less excited was he to know what damage has been done,
More curious was he to know what remedial steps they should begun.
But alas, what more good she could had told to him,
Her mind was not so skilled in comparison to human being.

She was just a spectator, humans were real protagonist of this play,
Who left the Duncan’s army and went in Macbeth’s way.
We all know the end and we know who was deceased,
But hey Macduff, Oh Macduff when will your legacy be received.

Sir Alex knew that, that time has come,
When he’ll forget everything from past and his new life will begun.
It’s almighty’s grace that he leaves some wit from our past,
So that we can acclimatize to the new world in which we’re cast.

It’s not infant Alex who now needs to learn,
To face new hitches which come across turn by turn.
It’s we the humans, the mighty moral fools,
Who need to learn some ethical values.
That all creatures whether big or small,
Have right to live in peace before they fall.

The person who is reading…yes I’m talking to you,
There is always a thing which you can do
To bring about the change we seek,
Which as an individual we always feel is bleak.

Together we can change this world,
We don’t need bacteria to convert milk into curd.
Say no to pollution, and to all contamination we do,
Because our kids won’t like the mess we lead them into.

There is still some time my friends,
And even my foes, you listen too
It’s not the time to engage in war,
It’s time to spread love and harmony’s hue.

Remove all the ills and enmities,
And give place for peace to fill,
Because mother Earth has got enough,
To fulfil all our will.

A humble Request to Nature

Here I tread upon the sand,
With a magic wand in my hand,
Thought for a while with a withered smile,
Can I change this feeble sight?

I hope the nature will tell me sometime,
The mighty changes he makes within,
In this gorgeous world of his own,
Doesn’t he feel the pain in this?

Can you tell me the rules you made,
To create this faulty world of fake,
With mortal figures roaming around,
And calling them the discoverer of fate.

I hereby as a gentleman pray you,
To make some rules for us too,
So that we humans recognize our mistakes,
And get corrected to all the pride we intake.


I dropped from top,
On the slope of umbrella’s knob.
Though my friends took a leap,
And straight away fell on the heath.

I laughed at their witty pace,
As they took a big leap and lost the race.
I thought a lot about the step they did take
And wondered why they made that mistake.

I yawned and moved on,
Feeling sorry for other’s wrong.
Took a slide with full might
On the leathery slope of my flight.

My next stop was a boot
Its colour was pitch black like soot.
But before I could come back from trance
That man just then left his stance.

I just tried on to keep the pace,
And took a grip of boot’s lace.
Though clumsy all it looked
As my pals laughed at my holded hook.

Suddenly my vehicle stopped,
That was probably a hamburger shop.
But as you know I was hanging upon,
So I just fell off my vehicle’s prong.

That lace was probably my last vehicle,
As next I fell in a stream and trickle
There I got mixed with my fellow mates
Who were already coming from ditchy lakes.

And then I went into a pond beyond
Waited and sat still for many a days long.
Waited and waited for Sun to shine bright
So that I could heat up and vaporize.

Then arrived the day of my going home
The place from where I belonged.
Where in a comfy whitish couch I would live
With my brothers and sisters along.

As I left in my vapory state
My friends gave a hue cry of their fate.
Though as a drop they couldn’t weep,
But just imagine they did this deed.

So I went on and just went on
Into the blue sky in my invisible form.
And there I reached and again yawned
As it would take a long time for me to again DROP on.